


Walk of Shame

by antivaisforlovers



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 13:25:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3412253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antivaisforlovers/pseuds/antivaisforlovers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After lengthy discussions about the state of his quarters, Cullen realizes that maybe, just maybe, Avrae is right after all and it's time to swallow his pride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walk of Shame

**Author's Note:**

> I was being silly with a friend of mine (hi Toni!) on tumblr while having an in-depth discussion about the hole in Cullen's ceiling. Things spiraled, one thing led to another, and here we are.

Cullen sighed as he watched Avrae walk out of his room, shaking her head as she shut the door quietly behind her. They’d been arguing about the hole in the roof of his quarters for what seemed like weeks now, and though he could now admit to himself that she was right, he’d been too stubborn about it for _far_ too long to let her know that now.

Running a hand through his hair, he extinguished the candles on his desk and climbed the ladder to his bed. As he undressed he shivered, glaring up at the visible night sky through the rafters, cursing the cold mountain air yet again as he tossed his clothing aside in frustration. Grumbling, he crawled under a pile of blankets, curling his body in a desperate attempt to warm himself.

Some time later, as he was finally drifting off to sleep, he felt it—a cold, intermittent wetness on his face, coming from above. Slowly, in disbelief, he rolled onto his back, glowering... only to be met with a raindrop in his eye. He could hear Avrae’s voice from only a few nights ago very clearly, addressing this very situation— _”Creators, Cullen, what do you do when it rains?”_

Swearing loudly he threw off his covers and stomped to a nearby chair, grabbing his trousers from it and roughly pulling them on. With fumbling hands he felt around for his shirt and boots, but in the ever-growing darkness decided that it was a fruitless effort. Instead he located his fur cloak and swung it around his shoulders before making his way down the ladder.

When he exited his study the skies had opened and the rain was coming down in cold, heavy drops. Shuddering from the wetness that was rapidly seeping through the fabric, Cullen pulled the cloak tighter around his body as he hurried down the stairs of the battlement, silently thanking the Maker that no one was around. He and Avrae’s arguments were no secret, and he’d heard rumors that there were bets going around on how long it would take him to give in. Perhaps he was more predictable than he thought.

He crossed the upper courtyard without incident, and quietly slid through Skyhold’s large doors into the main hall. He stood still for a moment, listening intently for anything that might indicate that someone was around. When he was satisfied that the only noise he could hear was the water dripping and pooling around his bare feet, he tentatively entered the hall, tiptoeing slowly, carefully, towards the door at the opposite end of the room.

He was halfway down the hall when he heard a soft voice behind him—”You look uncomfortable, Commander.” He whirled around and saw Solas leaning against a wall, arms crossed in front of him with a small, amused smirk on his lips. “The rest of us have learned not to doubt the Inquisitor, Cullen,” he continued with a slow smile as he watched droplets of water cascade down the commander’s face. “Perhaps it’s time you join in.”

Red faced, Cullen gaped at him, stumbling over his words. “Solas. I don’t… surely you can’t—I mean, I’m not… Maker’s breath.” He pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead. “This, ah... isn't what it looks like,” he finished weakly.

“Oh?” the elf replied, raising an eyebrow. “You mean you’re not on your way to the Inquisitor’s room looking like a wet, dejected cat?” He smiled slyly as the red on Cullen’s face quickly spread to the tips of his ears. “My apologies, Commander,” he said teasingly with a slight bow. “I've kept you long enough. And don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” With a wink and a low chuckle the elf returned to his quarters.

“Oh for the love of Andraste,” Cullen muttered, and hurried the rest of the way to the door at the end of the room.

When he arrived at the bottom of the stairs to the Inquisitor’s chambers he paused. There was a faint glow coming from the room but all was silent. He crept up the stairs, relieved when he felt the air grow warm around him. As he walked towards the bed, draping his sodden cloak over the banister, he saw Avrae shift, sitting up and rubbing tired eyes.

“Cullen?” she murmured drowsily. “Is everything alright?” With a wave of her hand she lit more candles and turned back to him, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her face as she observed the state he was in, hair dark and plastered to his face, trousers clinging to his legs. She pursed her lips, eyes glinting mischievously in the candlelight. “Oh. I see. Well, I—”

“Not another word, Lavellan,” he advised, cutting her off in an attempt to sound stern, but the twitch at the corner of his lips gave him away.

She raised her hands in resignation and pulled the covers of the bed back for him as he stripped off his waterlogged trousers. While he sat next to her, reaching to pull the blankets over him, she turned away from him and said with a grin, “Sera will be very pleased. She’s about to come in to quite a lot of gold when—” Her sentence was cut short with a squeal of surprise as Cullen quickly lifted the back of her nightshirt and place his ice-cold feet on her bare skin.

“I said not another word, my lady,” he laughed as he grabbed her around her waist and pulled her back onto the bed when she tried to scurry away. She giggled as she fought back halfheartedly, the pair rolling around as he continued to pin her down and poke her legs with cold toes, chastising her teasingly that this is what know-it-alls get for being smug.

When they were both sufficiently out of breath Cullen rolled onto his back, still chuckling, and pulled the blankets over him while Avrae sat up and gazed at him lovingly. She saw him shiver and frowned. “You must be chilled to the bone. May I try something?”

He nodded his agreement. Calling on one of her fire spells, she gradually heated her hands, then reached under the covers to grab one of his feet. As she pulled it to her lap, she wrapped her hands around it and Cullen could instantly feel the deep cold receding from him. When she moved to the other foot he groaned in appreciation. “Maker’s breath,” he breathed quietly. “You are amazing.”

“And here I thought I was a know-it-all.” Once he was sufficiently warmed, she moved to sit further up the bed, taking his large calloused hands and cradling them between her much smaller ones as she kissed the tip of each finger. When she was satisfied with her work, she knelt over him, hands placed on either side of his head, and leaned down to cover his cheeks and nose with warm kisses.

Before long he caught her lips with his own, pulling her down beside him as she sighed into his mouth. He cupped her face in his hand, kissing her one last time before resting his forehead against hers. “Thank you for putting up with me, my lady,” he whispered with a smirk. “Maker knows I can be… stubborn.”

She chuckled and kissed his nose before turning over to extinguish the candles. “It’s my pleasure Cullen, but you really don’t need to thank me. Besides,” she continued with a wink, “I knew you’d find your way here eventually. It was just a matter of time.” With that she rolled to her side and drew the covers over her, moving to press her back against his chest.

Cullen couldn't help but smile as he wrapped himself around her small frame, entangling his legs with hers, thankful for her extra body heat. He wondered how often his stubborn pride would betray him down the road, but as he buried his face into the curve of her neck he realized he didn't care.

_To the Void with pride_ , he thought to himself as he drifted to sleep. Wherever she was is exactly where he wanted to be.


End file.
